All about Grace
by LilaW08
Summary: Mum says that she hates him. Aunt Hermione says that hate is a strong word. It's more likely that she still misses him and is projecting her hurt as anger. Grand-mum says it's all about me. I'm Grace.
1. Chapter 1

Summery: Mum says that she hates him. Aunt Hermione says that hate is a strong word. It's more likely that she still misses him and is projecting her hurt as anger. Grand-mum says it's all about me. I'm Grace.

Disclaimer: If I really thought that I owned Harry Potter, I would NOT be swimming in student loans. If you read something that looks like it belongs to J. K. Rowling, then (you guessed it!) you would be correct.

Chapter 1

All about Grace

"You're going to have to tell him eventually." Molly Weasley said as she confronted her very pregnant daughter. "He's going to come back."

Ginny Weasley had a frown on her face and eyes that were red and wet with tears. Molly often found her daughter in such a state. She would gaze in that old full length mirror for hours with her hands lying gently on her growing stomach. Ginny hadn't spoken since she told Molly about the baby. Technically, she didn't even speak then. She had simply written it in a letter, and Molly had sent Arthur.

Molly had it all planned out. She would yell and scream and ground Ginny till she was 30. She would shout "how could you?" and "what were you thinking?" She had been reprimanding her children since Bill got his first time out for saying "NO!" when she took away a levitated cookie. Molly Weasley could handle this. But then, Arthur carried her into the kitchen. Ginny was nothing but skin and bones and paler than she had ever been, even when she had been ill as a child. Molly's heart skipped a beat when she saw the fear in her daughter's eyes.

"He loves you. I know he does." Molly paused to look for a reaction. Ginny continued to blankly stare into the mirror. "I bet he thinks about you every chance he gets. My bet is that he's doing this for you. Sure, he's doing it for everyone else, too. But Ginny, he would die before he let anyone get to you. Not that anything's going to happen to him! Ron and Hermione are with him. Hermione is such a smart girl. She'll keep both of them from doing anything stupid. They'll all be back before we know it."

Molly waited…nothing. Not so much as a gasp from her daughter. Molly really couldn't blame her daughter for the fear. The fear was what stopped her from scolding Ginny in the first place. It was the fear that explained everything. It was the fear that caused this bloody situation. How many babies were born before when all this first started? Young people were afraid to wait because tomorrow was only a question. Wasn't her Bill an example? Could she punish her daughter for something she did herself? Yet, Molly knew that Ginny had something much greater to fear than she ever did with tiny Bill.

"He knows how to keep you safe, Ginny. That's why he called it off before. He's going to come back for you when everything is settled. You'll see. We'll have a small wedding in the garden. We can invite only the family and you're friends. We don't even have to have a wedding. We can just have the Minister over for tea. Everything could be done then with no extra hassle. Well, we don't have to plan anything. We can wait. We can talk about it when he gets back."

Molly couldn't give up. This was her daughter, and no boy, even if he was Harry Potter, was going to break her heart. However, if it was any other boy, Ginny wouldn't be so afraid. If it was any other boy, Ginny wouldn't be worried about hiding a baby away from the entire world while a war was fought. She wouldn't have to fear her baby being the largest target in this war if it was simply known that Harry Potter had a child. If it was any other boy, Molly wouldn't be pleading with her daughter.

"He's going to be so excited when he finds out about the baby. I've always thought he would make a wonderful father. He'll probably take after James and want to teach the little one to fly before the tiny thing can crawl let alone walk. Ginny, you will make sure he doesn't spoil the child? It's going to be hard enough for the two of you to raise a child with all the publicity. None of you were ever spoiled, and I think you all turned out better than I ever dreamed. I hope you won't move to far away. I guess I could manage to travel back and forth. Maybe the three of you could stay here for a time? Just until you get back on your feet…Ginny, he will get back on his feet. He always does."

Molly sighed. Ginny shifted her hands slightly on her stomach. At least she moved. Molly had been having what seemed to be the same discussions with her daughter since Arthur had simply stated that she "try" to talk to her. Molly had tried everything. She tried force, distraction, simply being in the room. She tried making Ginny's favorite foods. She tried talking about mindless things, Potter Watch, asking about the changes in Hogwarts. She tried talking about quidditch. She tried making her angry, making her frustrated, making her laugh, making her cry, making her express something! Molly had tried absolutely everything…well, maybe not everything. But, would it work?

"Ginny," Molly paused, "maybe you could show him a little grace."

Molly held her breath as Ginny slowly turned away from the mirror to face her mother. Ginny stood still as stone. Molly thought the house had never been that quiet in all the years the family had lived there. She had tried everything. She slowly let her breath out and turned towards the door. When her hand touched the door knob, she paused at a sound she was beginning to think she would never hear again.

"Maybe…maybe….when he comes back….maybe I could show him a little Grace."

"That's all I'm asking dear." Molly smiled. She wouldn't realize what exactly her daughter meant until one month, three weeks, and five days later.


	2. Chapter 2 Hate and Chocolate Cake

Disclaimer: Going to college is expensive. If I owned the rights to this, which I don't, I wouldn't owe the bank so much. This is written simply for stress relief and reader enjoyment.

Chapter 2

Hate and Chocolate Cake

Where did she put those candles? The cake was baked, the icing was whipped, and all Molly Weasley needed were five tiny pink candles. The only problem was she couldn't find them. She could just conjure up some new ones, but she already had pink candles from Vic's birthday. If the girls were more than six months apart she would consider it. But loosing them in less than six weeks, this was just silly. She didn't need more pink candles.

"Ginny, do you know what I did with the pink candles? I made the cake, cleaned the house, decorated, and invited the family. You could at least help find five pink candles!"

Molly turned back to the cake to see five pink candles and _Grace Elizabeth_ appear magically on the chocolate wonder. Molly sighed and did what any mother in this situation would do. She opened the last cabinet in the kitchen and found the pack of pink candles. Apparently, someone found this amusing. Molly pretended to ignore Arthur's laughter from the other room. Any mother would want to have a party for her five year old. It was a stepping stone that everyone passed in life. Molly just wished her daughter would get passed her sadness and enjoy the day. Grace needed to see her mother smile.

"Ginny, it's just the family. Bill said to tell you he's bringing Teddy to play with the girls. Ginny?" Molly paused to listen for her daughter. "Ginny, why don't you come into the kitchen? Everyone will be here soon."

"Everyone is not coming." Ginny plainly stated as she walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later. Molly had almost forgotten what she was referring to. "He won't be here."

"I know that these things are hard without Fred. But, love, he so enjoyed birthday parties. It would break his heart if you stayed away from your own daughter's fifth." Molly started carrying everything to the dinner table. Everyone really would be arriving soon. Bill and Fleur would have Vic and Teddy in tow. Charlie had a port key to deliver him to the outer edge of the burrow grounds. Percy was coming straight after work from the ministry. George was bringing a date. And, there was always Ron and Hermione.

"That's not who I meant and you know it, mum. It's been five years. He's not coming back." Ginny spoke softly as she looked down at her hands. Molly wondered if her daughter would ever regain the fire in her eyes. She found it sad that the glow had dulled and gone out. It left an imposter in place of her daughter.

"We know he's not coming back, Gin. You don't have to rub it in. However, Fred is missing out on a perfectly good chocolate cake." George had walked straight into the kitchen pulling a slightly worried looking Angelina behind him. Molly smacked his fingers away from swiping at the icing while delivering a quick greeting to the poor girl.

"George, you know perfectly well that I didn't mean Fred. I don't hate Fred. HIM on the other hand, I hate." Ginny slammed the set of mismatched silverware down on the table. Angelina hurried over to take over the job of setting the table in order to save the family from eating dinner with their fingers.

"Hate is a strong word don't you think?" Molly realized she had been holding her breath as Hermione entered the kitchen with Ron close behind. She would know exactly what to say to calm Ginny down. "Ginny, it's alright that you miss him. We all miss him. What you are feeling is perfectly normal. You feel hurt and your body is trying to mentally protect you, so you are using projection as a defense mechanism. Your hurt is being projected as anger. You're mad at him. You don't _hate_ him." Then again, it could just set her to yelling again. At least she was expressing herself.

"It's been five bloody damn years! You know what a year is right? It has 365 days, and every 4 years we have an extra day. It's called leap year. Maybe you've heard of it? So it's been a grand total of 1,826 days." Bill and Fleur walked in each holding a youngster right at that moment. Ginny paused long enough for them to walk through to the other room before she continued. Her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose. Molly could feel the tears coming. "I'm not sad. The sad part is that I didn't have to do the math. I counted." Arthur and Percy walked silently into the kitchen. Ginny's voice grew softer. "I marked off every day on that damn calendar. It kept magically adding more pages, and I kept counting. I kept counting and counting because I thought that if I kept counting he would come back. Well guess what? I'm not going to count on his sorry ass anymore."

"Count on what, Gin?" Ginny Weasley gave Charlie her dull stare. "What I miss?" Molly gave her son an apologetic smile.

"Ginny, I don't think it's all about that." Molly calmly walked over to her daughter and engulfed her in a hug. "I think what it really is all about is grace." Ginny pulled out of the embrace.

"I know it's all about Grace. That's why I'm doing this, I mean stopping this! I can't go on dreaming and wishing for something that is never going to happen!" A single tear spilled over and ran down Ginny's cheek. It was the first time in five years that Ginny had looked her mother in the eye.

"Ginny, you know that's not what I meant. It's not what I meant now, last month, or five years ago the first time I said it. He's going to come back. Whether you want him to or not, Ginny, he is going to come back. And when he does come back, it is going to be your choice alone on whether or not you show him grace." Molly had had just about all she could take. She hoped that Bill and Fleur had managed to keep the children out of ear shot.

"I know what you meant, mum. I also know what I meant." Ginny pointed to her heart with her last statement. She turned when she heard a small voice behind her.

"It's all about me! I'm Grace! I'm the birthday girl! Right mummy?" The small dark headed, green eyed child went from strong confidence to strongly questioning herself. Ginny rushed over and picked up the girl into her arms.

"Of course, Grace! You're mummy's big birthday girl! Let's go find Teddy and Vic so we can eat your special birthday dinner grand-mum made you. Then," Ginny paused for affect, "we can have chocolate cake and presents!" The small girl made a sound that was between a squeal and a giggle. It was a perfectly good chocolate cake.


	3. Chapter 3 5 Years?

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be writing another book. But, I don't. This is just for fun, and the two feet of snow outside doesn't allow for very many entertainment options.

A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed! Feel free to hit that little button at the bottom when you're done reading this chapter. There were almost 200 visitors and only 3 reviews? I'm going to aim high and set a goal of 6 more. (_Laughs to self…alright, it wasn't that funny…_) Of course, I won't stop anyone from proving me wrong. Let me know what you think. I don't bite. I promise. Enjoy the chapter and the holiday!

Chapter 3

5 years?

"Mr. Potter, what have you done with the file on security for the five year memorial?!" Harry Potter dived beneath his desk and hit his head. "I highly doubt that it's under there. Check the bottom left drawer in your desk." So, hiding from his assistant wasn't going to help. She had to be the only person who knew where that file was. He thought he had had more time. It couldn't possibly have been five years already…could it?

"Thank you, Gretchen. When exactly is the deadline for this again?" Harry climbed back into his chair and slammed the file on his desk. He remembered vaguely what was actually in the file. He knew by heart the list of names. No. Not names. A list of people was in there. The security part of the file was what he wasn't quite remembering. He thought he had requested the details when he was first handed the file, but apparently this was…five years ago.

"You're the head of the department! You set the deadlines! How could you forget about the five year memorial? It's, I don't know, _five years after the last battle_! In fact, I've been told numerous times that my boss was actually there. He had this major role in defeating this really bad guy called Voldemort. Ever heard of him, Mr. Potter? Apparently not because my boss is the only person in the wizarding world who has no idea that the five year memorial is Saturday!!! Mr. Potter, is it too late to ask for a really good recommendation letter? Of course it is! Why? Because I forgot to inform Harry Potter that the five year memorial was in fact _in_ five years after I let him keep the file when he asked! Now, the five year memorial is in _less than five days_! It's bloody Thursday!" Gretchen continued her rant as she left Harry's office for her desk in front.

Thursday…it was Thursday. He had time. He could do this. He could…he could not do this! Harry stood and started to pace. He needed a plan. He needed organization. He needed strategy. He needed Ron and Hermione. Harry stopped to look at the framed articles he assumed Gretchen had hung up. It had been right in front of his face all these years. Harry Potter read the article for the first time.

_**The Golden Trio: the friendship behind the heroes**_

_By Samantha Samson_

_As we celebrate one year after the fall of Voldemort, this writer thought it imperative to investigate what makes the golden trio human despite their hero status. Could it be fact that they were only in this for the glory? This writer has to disagree. So, you might be asking, what brought this question to mind? Well, this writer was browsing in WWW's (see page 3 for the full advertisement) for a gift for my nephew. I was having a bit of trouble when Ronald Weasley asked if I needed any assistance. Frankly, I was quite surprised._

_This writer inquired why a hero such as himself was working in a joke shop of all places. Harry Potter was granted a direct spot on an auror team searching for lost wizards and witches who were still in hiding. Hermione Granger was in the process of passing a law that would lead to the end of discrimination. Ronald Weasley was working in a joke shop? It sounded so ordinary to this writer, almost too ordinary._

"_I have family business to take care of." He simply told me, and then he directed me to the most perfect gift for my nephew. As he was taking care of my purchase at the front, the other two members of the golden trio entered the store. Miss Granger had a basket of what appeared to be lunch for the three of them. As I was walking out, I heard George Weasley say to the three, "Go ahead in eat your lunch like you always do. But, do you think you could eat in the front? It brings in customers." The three of them laughed before they walked into the back room._

_It was like I suddenly understood the golden trio for the first time. The three of them could have eaten separately. It would have benefited their schedules. They could have had a public lunch, which would have been wonderful publicity. But, neither option crossed their minds. Three friends ate lunch together in a back store room because one of them had family business on that side of town. Three friends who also just happened to be the golden trio were eating lunch. It was all so simple. They deserve simple. They fought for it._

Harry had forgotten about that lunch. The three of them always ate lunch together during the work week, and it was almost always in that back room. They talked about what they were working on, what the next project was, and about things that had happened back in school that weren't so crazy. Harry would watch as Ron stared at Hermione when he didn't think she was looking. He would watch Hermione smile whenever Ron would show concern and go check on George. Then, for the first time, Harry realized what didn't happen at lunch.

They didn't talk about camping, Sunday dinners, or…her. The camping part was easy to explain. The three of them had enough camping to last them the rest of their lives. The Sunday dinners at the burrow were a little harder to explain away. Harry could recall Ron making casual statements about his parents and various siblings. Harry would talk about Teddy and share stories about his adventures with his friends Vic and Grace. He knew that Victorie was Bill and Fleur's, but he had yet to ask Andromeda about Grace. There were few wizarding children of that age. Her mother was probably relieved to find two play dates. The actual dinner part was just a little bit much for Harry to take. There were just too many people with too many memories in too little space. But, never once did any of them mention…her.

Ron and…she…acted like they never got along when in fact they were closer to each other than any of the other lot. Plus, Hermione always planned all her "girl stuff" with…her…didn't she? In fact, he couldn't even remember George saying anything about her…or Arthur…or Percy. He did see them from time to time when they would cross paths at the ministry. It was only a small bit of time, but they would exchange pleasantries. Surely, he had missed something? Everyone kept telling him it had been five years. Everyone could not have said anything about her in five years…could they? Why hadn't he?

Harry just stood there more confused than he had ever been since…since…his first divination class? He ran a hand through his mess of hair. It was getting quite long. In fact, the last time he ran into Arthur, the man had suggested letting Molly cut it. It seemed that Harry had made a mess out of more than just his hair. Could he fix it? Well, he could at least try to fix something he wanted to for a change. Maybe he should start with the five year memorial. He _was_ head of the department. Harry walked over to the flu. He needed his best friends for this. He just hoped that they would be gracious. It was going to be a long night.

Ron stumbled in to his flat carrying Hermione Friday night at…it was 3:30 am! Well, it was Saturday then. The two of them had finally helped Harry fix the security plans. They only had to be at the ministry for the memorial in…five hours. Ron held back a groan as he laid Hermione down on the bed. He loved his best mate as a brother, but this was pushing it.

Ron was barely conscious enough to get the two of them safely home. He used the toe of his left foot to take off his right shoe. He put off paperwork as long as he could, but never five years. George would kick him out of the store by then. Bloody hell, there wouldn't even be a store by then. Ron kicked the left shoe somewhere in the direction of the closet. This memorial was going to be hard enough to attend without adding fighting to stay conscious. Maybe Hermione could make some of that…what did she call it again? Whatever it was called, it was hot, black, and had sugar and something else that just might help the both of them make it through the day.

Ron collapsed on the bed telling himself he didn't need to write a note. Hermione always set this wind-up loud clock thing to get up in more than enough time. He would flu mum to tell her Harry would be popping in for a quick hair cut. He really did need to look presentable, but a surprise visit to the burrow would…not be beneficial to his goal of living a long life. He could wake up and remember. He only had five hours anyway. Ron passed out not even remembering that Hermione wasn't awake to set the "loud clock thing."


	4. Chapter 4 Boy Did Something Stupid Take2

Disclaimer: I have still yet to think of a way to trick myself into believing that I own Harry Potter because the truth of the matter is that I never will. This is just for fun.

A/N: For those who are confused, this chapter is dedicated to you. In the middle of all the chaos at my house do this amazing holiday, I came up with an outline for this chapter. I've been told by friends that the way my brain works can be confusing, so I hope this chapter clears up some things.

To all those who have added me to favorites and story alerts, you made my Christmas! For all the reviewers, thanks again! Sugar cookies awarded to all of you. For all those who haven't reviewed, I like to inform you of my lack of mind reading abilities. If you want me to know something, you have to tell me. For those who have just tuned in, welcome to my way of thinking.

Well, here is to the latest chapter. I hope y'all like the title. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Boy Did Something Stupid Take 2

Harry Potter had the best friends anyone could ever imagine. How else could the three of them pull this whole memorial together from Thursday afternoon to 3:30 Saturday morning? After getting the main schedule of the event done and Harry's speech written, it was only 7:30 Friday night. Hermione had fallen asleep listening to Ron instruct Harry on the best strategy for security during the overly populated and very public memorial. Harry was functioning on about three hours of sleep. It was currently 6:30am, and he could remember apparating back to his flat. What he couldn't remember was hitting his mattress fully clothed. The waking up part was actually due to this wined up alarm clock that Hermione had bought him after he took the job at the ministry. To think of it, he didn't remember himself setting it either.

He was stalling. Harry was standing at the edge of the garden of the burrow. He was close enough that he could hear Molly making breakfast for the family. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was planning on visiting before the memorial. Harry ran his hand through his hair. More and more people were starting to comment on how long it was. It really did need cut. So, did he just walk through the door and into the kitchen? Ron said he was going to flu Molly that he was coming. Arthur always told him when they crossed paths at work that he was always welcome. Harry knew that. Deep down he really knew he was supposed to be in that kitchen eating breakfast. What was the problem then? All he had to do was walk across the garden, open the door, and walk in. It should be that easy. If it was so easy, why hadn't he done it before?

At first, it was the blame he put on himself that had kept him away. It was the list of people that he could never seem to get out of his head. If he had only acted sooner this many names wouldn't be on that list. If he hadn't been so stupid someone else could have been saved. If he was in one place over another so and such wouldn't be on the list. Each time he went through his what if's he would plug in different names. But, one name always seemed to make its way into the blame game, and he was the reason Harry couldn't bring himself to walk into that kitchen.

The excuses were easy to create. Harry was offered a spot as an auror straight after the war. He was assigned to a team that was looking for those still in hiding that didn't know it was all over. He dedicated his time to finding them while a thick fog swallowed him whole. He was reuniting families, but he was also destroying the last bit of hope some of them were holding on to. It seemed that the more people he found, the more he had to tell about the death of a loved one. His team was trained to "put it as gently as possible." The phrases tasted like bile in his mouth.

"He was a strong fighter, one of the best."

"She was so brave."

"He died fighting for what he believed in."

"She wanted you to be safe. You're safe now."

"He loved you so much."

The list went on and on. It seemed that they all wanted to thank him. He did what he had to. Anyone in his shoes would have done the same thing. At least that was what Harry told himself. It was the only thing that pressed the fog back a little bit. It kept him going. Then, he had gotten his new assignment. Harry Potter was to be the head of Missing Persons.

Harry knew he was good at what he did. But, there was just something about looking for people with only dead ends in sight that made him withdrawal even further into himself. Hermione said he was bound to be depressed with his job if he didn't find something to balance it out. She had told him he needed something or someone that could make him happy no matter how dark the world seemed to be. After that conversation, Ron had started full force insisting that Harry talk to Ginny. Harry always seemed to think maybe they had a point. Then, some new clue would show up.

His teams found more dead than alive from the once enormous list of those missing. Most of them had been muggle born who had been on the run much like himself, Ron, and Hermione. He still hated camping and probably always would. He found himself wishing for more and more that had managed to slip away. If he couldn't find them, then chances were death eaters hadn't either. Then, a bad day would come. Harry defined a bad day as one where he just knew he was going to find someone alive and safe, and then he wouldn't. The worst part was that they looked so peaceful. Not a single mark would be present.

It was the bad days that sent him to Andromeda's home to play for hours with Teddy. Harry had made a promise that this little boy would have everything that he didn't as a child in the same situation. The current six year old couldn't control his Metamorphagus talents at will, but control of hair color was getting there. For some reason, the child liked it to be blue. It stayed blue until he laughed, or sneezed, or dreamed…and, oh could he talk! Harry heard more stories about the adventures of Teddy, Vic, and Grace more than anything. He really needed to get Andromeda to take some pictures of the three of them. Every time he asked her about it, she said the thought always escaped her mind. It was probably due to chasing after three small wizarding children.

Harry was running out of excuses. He really didn't even think about the main reason he was so afraid to walk into that kitchen. Putting blocks in his head to protect the most precious thing in the world to him had been harder than he ever thought possible. It was after he finally built the wall that he realized how hard it was going to be to actually tear it down. After everything was over, he hadn't thought about anything. He had simply went to bed and slept for 40 hours.

He didn't _not_ think about her on purpose. He had just associated not thinking about her as the best possible way to keep her safe. He was still a target. Spare death eaters were still being brought in to the ministry for trial every so often, and there was even some new opposition that always developed. When he was working, he was focused on his job. He had to be to keep people alive. It's just how it worked.

There was a time when everything slowed down that he began to think about her. It was then that he hated himself. It would be late at night when he couldn't sleep because he missed something. Harry would spend hours trying to remember what it was, and all he would hit was a brick wall. He would fight against the block for what felt like hours. Sometimes he would get through, and sometimes he wouldn't.

The last time Harry broke through was about three weeks ago. He had just had one of his really bad days. His team had found a father and daughter who had not escaped their pursuers. Harry had gone straight to see Teddy after consoling a distraught muggle mother. He couldn't explain why to her. He could tell her he had found them. He could tell her they would pay for the funeral and all the arrangements. He could tell her so many useless things. He couldn't return a husband, who hadn't mentioned to his wife anything about magic, and the daughter the father was simply trying to protect. After Harry had put Teddy to bed, he had thought about the similar age between the boy and girl. He thought about how he would feel if it had been his daughter that had been…He thought about someone comforting…Ginny.

When the wall comes down, it comes down fast and hard. Harry missed her. He missed her smile. He missed her laugh. He missed the way she would stand up to Ron about their relationship. He missed her hair. He could never fully imagine the exact shade of her hair. He missed how small she felt in his arms. He missed how good it felt to hold her, to protect her. He missed the way that she could whisper that everything would be alright. He missed the way he believed it. He missed…

"Son, are you going to stand outside all morning, or are you going to come inside for breakfast?" Arthur was looking at Harry like he was some skittish animal that would take off if he spoke too loudly. "It's alright, son. It's ok." Arthur slowly reached his arm out toward Harry and placed it around his shoulders. "Ron and Hermione haven't arrived yet. I'm sure they'll be here soon." Arthur had started to guide Harry across the garden and towards the door of the kitchen. "Molly's made your favorite." Arthur laughed quietly. "Ron was supposed to flu her if we were to expect you. He must have forgotten. I don't see the point in the warning anyway. She always makes your favorite."

Molly always made his favorite? He hadn't been to the burrow in…in five years. She wouldn't have made his favorite for five years…would she? Harry was maneuvered into the kitchen wishing that he had come home sooner. At least, for a little while, he had finally defeated that fear.

***

Grace had been the first to spot "the strange man" standing outside. Molly had quickly changed the child's hair brown with eyes to match. Ginny was still locked in her room, and Molly didn't expect her to come down until it was time to leave. Molly hoped that the child wouldn't say anything to tip Harry off to the change in color. Ginny changed Grace's hair before outings, not that she allowed the child that many. Arthur had put his foot down when he told Ginny that he had the right as a grandfather to take his granddaughter for ice cream. Molly was glad that Ginny had given in.

Arthur had managed to bring the boy into the kitchen. Harry was finally in his seat at the table after an absence of five years. Tears started to form in Molly's eyes. She always knew he would be back.

"Hello. I'm Grace. What's your name? Do you want some treacle tart? Grand-mum always makes some treacle tart for breakfast. It's my favorite. What's your favorite? Your hair is really long! It touches your shoulders! You should let Grand-mum cut it. She's really good at cutting hair. Do you…"

"Grace! Are you done eating?" Molly was starting to panic a bit. If Harry knew before Ginny was ready to tell him…the small girl nodded. Molly was relieved that she had scolded the child for badgering people before. "Well, go on upstairs and get dressed." Grace jumped down from the bench before running out of the kitchen.

"That's Grace?" Harry asked Molly. Molly couldn't help but smile at the boy's confused face. It really wasn't his entire fault that he didn't know. "Teddy talks about her. I didn't know she was also your granddaughter. Who does she belong to?"

"She's Charlie's." Arthur said without missing a beat. "Apparently children and dragons don't mix. She's been here since she was a baby." Arthur stated as smooth as possible. It was so easy. Charlie was the only brother that Harry barely knew anything about. Arthur would slip upstairs and tell Ginny while Molly fed the boy and cut his hair. "I'll go see if she needs help. I might as well wake Ginny. We'll need to leave soon for the memorial."

Harry couldn't believe that Charlie would have a kid and he wouldn't hear about it. Harry looked at Molly with the question on his face. "Charlie's working as hard as usual. Grace's mother just isn't…well, she just isn't able to care for Grace by herself. She lost someone very close to her in the war. I like having Grace around though. She makes everyone smile even when they don't want to. She's attached to Ginny's hip half the time. I think it's good for both of them."

Harry had finished eating. He really hadn't been that hungry. Molly had started on his hair without him really noticing. He could picture Ginny helping to care for Charlie's daughter. The explanation made since. It fit. It was almost perfect. Then, why did he not want to believe it?

Molly had just finished with his hair when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Harry ran out the door before Ginny Weasley made her appearance. He really did need to get to the memorial at the ministry before everyone else. He thought about how stupid the excuse sounded as he apparated.


	5. Chapter 5 So This Is Love

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership. I like to think that I am smarter than that. Anything in this story that looks like it is not mine is most likely correct. For whatever reason, writing out my "what ifs" about my favorite characters is fun. It's also a wonderful stress reliever. No payment is received except through alerts, favorites, and (my favorite) reviews.

A/N: I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Mine was wonderful. Chaotic, yes, but it was fun. I hope this chapter exceeds expectations. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

So This Is Love

***

_So this is love, Mmmmmm_

_So this is love_

_So this is what makes life divine_

_I'm all aglow, Mmmmmm_

_And now I know_

_The key to all heaven is mine_

_My heart has wings, Mmmmmm_

_And I can fly_

_I'll touch ev'ry star in the sky_

_So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of_

_Mmmmmm_

_Mmmmmm_

_So this is love_

Harry was pacing back and forth across the small back room that opened onto a stage…in an assembly hall…with hundreds of people…reporters…family members…of those lost…five years…

He needed to practice his speech, but all he could think about was how stupid he was. He heard footsteps on the stairs and he ran away like a small child. He didn't even know if it had been her. She was going to be here, too. She was going to hear this speech. She was going to listen to it more closely than anyone else in that room…that overly large, gigantic, vast room. "Vast?" When did he use words like "vast." The stress must be getting to him. Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. Where were Ron and Hermione? Surely they would come here when Molly…Molly would explain everything. They would come waltzing into this room any moment. He just needed to practice a little more. That's all he needed to do. He could just repeat this speech over and over till all he had to do was look over all those heads and just…she was going to be there.

***

Hermione woke up slowly and groggy with sleep. She was warm, comfortable, and humming her favorite love song. The song was short and sweet, but she loved it all the same. Her humming must have awoken Ron, because she could feel him beginning to play with her hair. She felt so safe with her head on his chest. She sighed deeply not wanting to move. She knew that she needed to get up, but at this precise moment she couldn't exactly remember why.

"Good morning." Ron whispered in just as groggy a voice that Hermione felt. "You always hum that song after you sleep dead to the world."

"It happens to be a very romantic song, Ronald." Hermione scolded playfully. "It's from my favorite movie as a child."

"And that makes this fit how exactly?" Ron's confusion was evident in his voice. Hermione just smiled as she thought. If he knew the words to the song let alone seen the movie, he would understand.

"It simply means that I was dreaming about finding my personal heaven. Now, I'm not dreaming anymore." Hermione turned more towards Ron. He took the hint and situated his arms around her better. "I have arrived." She rubbed her head against his side. She really didn't want to get up. Why did they need to get up?

***

"Grand-mum, do you like my dress? Grand-dad says I look pretty. Do you think I'm pretty? I think mummy is the most pretty." Grace had been the one on the stairs. Molly continued to listen to the child's prattle for a time.

"Grace, did your mum help you?" Molly was hoping that Ginny would be down soon. Fleur had just flued saying that Victorie was ill, and it seemed that Bill had caught whatever it was from the child. They would be missing the memorial. She had just sent Percy after George and Charlie after Ron. They would be meeting up at the ministry before the memorial started. Arthur was still upstairs. Molly hoped he was convincing Ginny to come down. All this food and the only thing that had been touched was the treacle tart. She thought she would be more upset, but she couldn't help but feel happy about that fact.

"Yes. Green is her favorite." Molly smiled at the way Grace wrinkled her nose at the green and how it was still Ginny's favorite. She really hoped that Arthur would be bringing Ginny down soon.

***

"Did you have to rent a flat that had a clear view of the bedroom? I'm scarred for life!" Charlie stood not far from the doorway with his hands over his eyes. "Mom says you're forgiven for not warning her about Harry coming this morning, but could you please at least show up early to the memorial for his sake." If it was any other predicament that Charlie had found the couple in, Ron would have laughed. He was surprised when Hermione did. He grabbed his wand off the bedside table and slammed the door in his brother's face. He lowered his head down to Hermione's shoulder before he suddenly jumped out of bed and over to the closet.

"Where's the fire?" Hermione giggled. "I don't think he's going anywhere." Ron threw one of Hermione's suits over to her on the bed.

"The fire is here if we don't get to the memorial before Mum, and according to Charlie's appearance…"Ron didn't get to finish as Hermione jumped out of bed, dressed, and pulled him towards the flu.

***

"You told him WHAT!" Ginny couldn't believe this "good news" that her father of all people had come up with. "I told everyone not to tell him. I said to let me tell him in my way in my time. I didn't say to make up some lie about her being Charlie's love child when he actually decided to show up!" Ginny covered her face with her hands before falling back on her bed and burying her face in her pillow. She had managed to get Grace presentable for the memorial. The dark green dress was pretty, wouldn't show stains easily, and wasn't black. It was the perfect shade of green. Mum had already charmed Grace's eyes and hair. Ginny contemplated with turning her eyes back to green. She new she couldn't, but they were the perfect shade of green.

"What did you want us to say? Harry, this is not your daughter. She's not my daughter's daughter. In fact, I have no idea who this child is." Arthur threw his hands in the air. Molly said their daughter would tell the boy eventually. Arthur never wanted to wait for eventually. The boy had a right to know his daughter. Arthur had had enough. "You're going to tell him then since you don't want him to think she's Charlie's. You're going to tell him, and your going to tell him today." Arthur paused to see his daughter shaking with tears. He walked over and gently sat on the edge of the bed. "Why are you so afraid to tell him? You used to tell him everything."

Ginny was quiet before she let out her answer mixed with tears. "It's because he doesn't love me, and I don't want to hear him say it. I want him here for me." Ginny sat up and leaned into her father's embrace. "I'm afraid that the only reason that he's coming back is for a child he feels obligated to. I want love, and I'm afraid to admit that I'm never going to get that from him."

Arthur rubbed small circles on his daughter's back. He could feel the tears coming in his eyes. "But Ginny, he does love you. I know he does." Ginny didn't even pause before saying the one thing that the whole family had been afraid to speak aloud.

"If he loved me, he would be here. I was dreaming of a miracle, Dad. I've stopped dreaming." Arthur felt the tears fall from his eyes. He kissed the top of her head and held her tight as they both cried. He knew the boy had hurt his daughter's heart. He hadn't realized the boy had shattered it completely.

***

Harry stopped pacing as Ron and Hermione stumbled into the room breathing like they had run full speed from the lifts without pause. Then again, they most likely had.

"Sorry mate, we lost track of time." Ron somehow managed to get out between breaths.

"We honestly didn't mean to, Harry. We're sorry." Hermione looked like she was beyond forgiveness.

Harry wondered how everyone, himself included, could lose track of time. Time was always there. It was constant. It never changed. Yet, somehow he had let five years go bye. His friends' mistake seemed so small compared to his own. Harry meant to respond with "hello" or "it's ok" or even "it's about time". What came out was not what he, or anyone else for that matter, expected.

"Since when does Charlie have a kid? That's not exactly a small detail that no one mentions in five years. I've been trying to recall one conversation where anyone even hinted at this, and I've got nothing." Harry ran his hands through his hair. It was much shorter than he was used to, but it was long enough to lay nice for a change. Molly had worked wonders.

"Charlie has a kid?" Ron asked while he gave Harry a bewildered look. "If he does, it's news to me, mate."

"Nice hair cut, Harry. How's the speech coming?" Hermione jumped full in and changed the subject as she glared at Ron. "It looks great doesn't it Ronald."

"Yeah, mate. It looks great." Ron gulped. He was in so much trouble for this one. He had no idea why, but he didn't ask. "Want to go over it one more time with us before you give it for real?"

"And, she doesn't even look like Charlie! In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that she had Ginny's smile, I would bet a hundred galleons that she wasn't even a Weasley!" Harry started to pace again. "Ginny was upstairs when I was there. She was right there! And, someone started to come down and I just ran! I've been gone five damn years, and I couldn't even stay in the kitchen while she ate breakfast. I thought it would be so easy if I made it. After I survived, if I survived, I was going to walk straight back to her. I was going to tell her I did everything for her, and all I managed to do was block her out of my head. I couldn't remember that I wanted to go back let alone why I wanted to. So, I went to work looking for people. I looked for everyone but her! How could I possibly be this stupid! All I ever wanted to do was make all this work. I'd find and beat all the bad guys. I'd keep her safe. Why isn't this working?" Harry stopped pacing as he ended his rant. Was he crying! He was. Harry Potter was crying.

"Maybe," Hermione started, "it's because you don't want it to work this way." Hermione conjured up a plain white handkerchief and pressed it into Harry's hand.

"I don't know how to make it work." Harry mumbled quietly. If Ron and Hermione hadn't have been right beside him, they wouldn't have heard.

"Mate," Ron stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "just admit you have to tell her."

"Tell her what?" Harry's voice was confused but full of hope that his friends could help him fix everything.

"I'm sorry." Ron nodded his head firmly. He then said quietly, "it works every time."

"I heard that Ronald!" Hermione smacked the back of Ron's head. "But, you're right. So Harry, about that speech..." Ron just smiled as Hermione pulled the conversation away from him being right.

***

"Grand-mum, do you think the man who was at breakfast will come back for lunch?"

"I hope so Grace."

"Can I ask him?"

"May I ask him."

"…"

"Of course Grace."

"Do you know his favorite?"

"Yes Grace."

"Can we have that for lunch?"

"May…never mind…yes Grace."

"Grand-mum?"

"Yes Grace?"

"Do you think he'll like my dress?"

"Yes Grace."

"I don't think he likes me."

Molly knelt down to the little girl and pulled her into her arms. "He loves you Grace (…_even if he doesn't know it yet…_) How could he not?" Grace smiled at her grandmother and then continued to ask questions about "the man at breakfast." Grace was more like her mother than Ginny probably realized. Molly smiled at Grace's excitement as the child continued her round of questions.


	6. Chapter 6 What Really Matters

Disclaimer: I do not own any known characters that are widely known in this world. I seek no profit. Writing is simply my way of making my thoughts visible to others. Apparently, I think about these characters more than I should. I do have to admit that this is fun.

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites. It's nice to know what y'all think. Enjoy as always and looking forward to your thoughts on this one.

Chapter 6

What Really Matters

"_The legacy of heroes is the memory of a great name and the inheritance of a great example."_

_~Benjamin Disraeli (British Prime Minister and Novelist 1804-1881)_

A large room off the front entrance at the Ministry of Magic was overflowing with a sea of black. The majority of the faces in the crowd were somber matching the mourning clothes. Reporters composed the few whose faces were in awe. They lined the front of a stage wanting to be the first to report on the grand speech that would present the five year memorial. The memorial itself was a simple coal black marble wall with names. It seemed so small in the large room. Families clung to each other. Strong men with tears in there eyes. Mothers with pure strength etched across their faces. Children so young they seemed out of place and more quiet than their mothers could ever recall them being. The only color in the room was one of these children. She wasn't simply small in height. Her features were petite. She was clinging tightly to the hand of an older woman with red and silver hair. The child had no clear view of the stage being that she was surrounded by various other people that were quite clearly relatives based on the similarity of coloring. Yet, it wasn't her brown hair that made her stand out from the crowd that was drawing the unwanted attention. It was the dress. It was a simple green dress in a sea of black.

***

Arthur didn't think the room could get any quieter. He was wrong. He gently pried his granddaughter's hand from his wife in order to pick her up in his arms. He wanted her to see this. She needed to see this…even if she wouldn't be able to remember it…Harry Potter was going to speak. He was going to explain everything. In Arthur's opinion, the child in his arms deserved to hear it the most.

***

"I've never understood why people thought I was special. When I think of people that deserve that title, I have a long list. But, I'm never on it. It's composed of people who were braver, stronger, and much more of a hero than I will ever be. I don't like being compared to them, in fact, I hate it.

I never gave my life up for anything. I know some people who would say I tried, but if that was true, I did a really horrible job at it. I wouldn't be here giving a speech if it had happened. I never died protecting my child. I didn't die standing beside my brother. I sure as hell didn't die coming back to fight after some adults told me I was too young because if I didn't then someone else would die in my place.

I'm not smart. I'm horrible at strategy. But, I'm great at flying. I like the way it feels. I like the thought of just being able to get on a broom and go higher and higher… The only problem with flying is that I don't like to come back down. There are two ways to come down. The easy way is by your own will and power. It's a nice smooth landing. The hard way involves some bludgers, pain, falling, and the infirmary. I've tried both, and I must say that I prefer the first. However, today falls into the second category.

Today I'm giving a speech to honor the memory of a great bunch of names. These are names of heroes. They are heroes because they died for the most unselfish of reasons. They died protecting us. They died so that I could stand up here and give you a speech that none of you are really going to remember. They died so that we can go home and have lunch. They died giving us the most wonderful thing in this world. They gave us an example to live by.

I've learned to treasure a good joke, enjoy a photograph, the importance of always saying goodbye first, and something else…I think it's the most important. I've learned to notice what I have even when it doesn't make sense, like treacle tart for every meal for five years even though it's not a breakfast food. I've learned to notice the absence of a smile from one specific person is what I've been missing. I've learned to notice that it's my fault, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hiding from all of this because I thought it would be easier for ……everyone…… to not have me as a reminder. I know that my being sorry isn't going to fix everything, but I hope that it's a start. I hope it gives me the chance to try.

So, I'm going to try to stop being selfish. I've had five years of that. I'm going to stand tall, dry my tears, dust myself off, and be a man. I'm going to start making my heroes proud. I'm going to live by their example. I'm going to give them a legacy. We all can give them that legacy. It's not what they asked for, but it's what they deserve."

***

Ginny Weasley had arrived at the memorial right when it began for a reason. She didn't want to stand with her family and listen to him give a grand speech. He hated speeches. Speeches made him the center of attention, and he had always preferred being in the background. She had stood to the side in the back of the room hoping that he wouldn't spot her. She figured that he would pick a spot on the back wall and just talk. He could avoid all the eyes that way.

She thought she would come just to keep her mum happy. If she didn't make an appearance, the burrow would be unlivable. Yes, it was better to just come and try to hide in this crowd for a little while. She had come fully intending to hate whatever he was going to say. She figured that he would pretty much read whatever Hermione had written. She was more than a little surprised when she spotted Harry waving the cards away as Hermione frowned before her brother led her off the stage. So, he was going to vacate his plans at the last moment for something off the top of his head…or was it going to be straight from his heart?

When he turned away the note cards, Ginny thought she could guess what he would talk about. She guessed that he would down play his role in the war. She guessed he would mention his parents. She guessed that he would mention her family in some way…mostly something along the lines of Fred, but still…She never guessed he would mention Collin. Collin was her friend. Harry was more annoyed by him than anything. She could remember on more than one occasion wondering if she should tell Collin to quit snapping pictures of Harry every time he got the chance.

She didn't think that he would mention her mum's ill habit of making treacle tart constantly. The whole family was dreading the stuff due to that fact alone. Everyone that is, except for Grace. She was the only one who could still touch the stuff. By the glare her mum was giving her dad and the way he was avoiding her eye, Ginny figured that Harry must have been informed of this new tradition that very morning. It was never supposed to be part of his speech.

She didn't think he would ever remember her smile. Oh, she knew it was her smile that he had mentioned. It was the last thing he had ever said to her before she fell asleep in his arms the night he left. He hadn't said goodbye. He'd told her that if he could come back for anything, it would be her smile.

She wished that she could admit that these were the only things that she was shocked by. She wished that she wouldn't have to admit to what she was looking at during the entire speech. She wished that she wasn't going to have to face what was before her very eyes. Harry Potter had chosen Grace's eyes to connect with during his speech. Ginny couldn't help but feel like he was trying to make up a bedtime story. It was a horrible bedtime story, but Grace was locked on to every word. Ginny couldn't take it anymore. She could just explain to her mum that she was too overwhelmed to stay the whole time. But then, it happened. Harry said his line about the smile he had been missing, and Grace gave it to him. The next thing Ginny realized, she was home.

***

Harry Potter turned towards the back room directly after ending his speech. He hoped that the crowd's silence wouldn't break until after he had closed the door. The first rounds of "Mr. Potter" were being thrown at him from different angles by a storm of reporters. Some wanted to clarify a point of the speech while others wanted to know his preference of one product or another. What his preference of hair gel had to do with the five year memorial was anyone's guess. Normally he would send back a round of "no comment, no comment"; however, his thoughts were being consumed by something else at the moment.

Harry had first spotted Grace in the crowd simply by the color of her dress. He found it odd that she would be in green when everyone else had fallowed a dress code of strict black. He had planned on just talking to the back wall for the whole thing, but the eyes of this child had held him captive. They were brown. Ginny's eyes are brown. Before he knew what he was doing, he had presented his entire speech to a child. Plus, when he had talked about Ginny's smile, he remembered the smile from the little girl at breakfast that morning. Harry found himself wishing for a comparison. He didn't have to wait for the girl to smile at him. As he closed the door to the back room, he shut out the voices from the reporters. He couldn't shut out the memory of telling Ginny that he would come back for that smile.

***

"I have to go." Grace whispered into her grandfather's ear.

"Go where, sweetheart?" Arthur looked at the girl questioningly. He was worried that she wasn't handling the noise and the crowd. He always thought that his daughter sheltered her too much.

"I have to goooo!" Grace scrunched up her face and wiggled in her grandfather's arms.

"Oh. Oh!" Arthur realized with a start what his granddaughter needed. He must really be out of practice. Where was Molly or Ginny for that matter? Arthur paled at taking the child himself.

"Come to Auntie Hermione. I can handle this, Dad. Molly went after Ginny. The boys are in the back room. I think they need help convincing Harry about lunch. We'll meet you back home." Hermione took charge as always and before Arthur noticed, the young woman had his granddaughter out of his arms, across the pack of people, and safely to the powder room. Arthur laughed to himself as he headed to the back room. He really did need to speak to his youngest son about making this new daughter a permanent part of the family because in the end family was really all that mattered.

***

It was so easy. All that was needed was a little patience, and the family would distance themselves. It was like the girl was meant to be the target. Her green dress got more looks than her pretty face. So what if that Granger woman was the best friend of Potter? She was just one person. The older woman had gone chasing after her brat of a daughter. All the men were in that room which was the furthest place from the restrooms. It was closed off, too. And if the reactions of the reporters were any clue, it was magic that was shutting more out than just the door and walls ever would. Who ever said luck was needed to pull this off? The noise from the crowd had covered Granger's small amount of surprise. The child hadn't even screamed. It was so easy. There was plenty of time to grab the girl and apparate away. All that was left behind was an unconscious Granger who had let her guard down because she was in a powder room. An out of order sign would keep people from even checking that stall. There was plenty of time to put in the needed distance. By the time anyone realized the smallest thing was wrong, this child would be long gone.

***


	7. Chapter 7 Losing More

Disclaimer: Anything that is recognized as not mine is (you guessed it) not mine. This is for fun as always.

A/N: I don't think I can ever say this enough: thanks for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites. So, I've dug myself out of all the snow and I am now currently at school. I don't think the course load is going to be as bad as I've had in the past. I'm glad I have this story and reviews (that was a hint in case you missed it *giggle*) to keep me sane. Enjoy! ~Lila

Chapter 7

Losing More

Molly glanced out the kitchen window as she prepared the treacle tart for lunch. She could make it in her sleep, literally. Arthur had caught her sleepwalking in the kitchen in various stages of making treacle tart more than once. It always happened after one of her bad days… She had fallowed her daughter back to the burrow from the memorial to find her talking to Fred. Molly often spotted her children sneaking out to that very spot. It seemed that the brother no one ever took seriously had become a treasured confidant. She had watched all of them spill their problems with their tears asking a lost brother for a solution. She wondered if the answers were ever revealed. She never asked, in fact, she pretended that she never saw them. Her children were more alike than they knew, but it wasn't her place to inform them. If talking to Fred helped them get everything out, she wasn't going to ruin it by spilling the secret. It was better than losing her children before her eyes when they let their spirits be swallowed up within themselves. Molly continued to keep a watchful eye on her daughter as she made lunch. Everyone would be back soon. She couldn't picture lunch any other way. This time, everyone was going to be here.

***

Ginny couldn't believe she was crying of all things. She promised herself she would never cry over him again. It was pointless. He was back, and he was either going to…talk to her or not. He was going to have to come to her. She waited for him to come back for five years. She could wait till lunch. Yes, she could. It wouldn't be long now. She hadn't really lost him. He was going to be sitting at the table with everyone for lunch, well almost everyone. She really hoped that Grace wouldn't come down with whatever it was that Victorie had. Fleur would have her hands full with and ill husband and child who were both horrible patients. So, there would be fewer people at the table. Mum would probably try to get them to sit by each other. It wouldn't be so bad. Then again…she'd make sure the butter dish was at the other end of the table. What would Fred say? She would never know. He would probably think the situation was hilarious. He would probably target the pair with embarrassing innuendos that all the other brothers would try not to laugh at. She hadn't really lost him. He was going to be here. Dad said she had to tell him today. She was going to tell him. He was going to say… He was going to… She hadn't really lost him. She fisted bunches of grass into her hands. If he left this time, she was really going to lose him. She couldn't believe she was crying.

***

George was the first brother to leave the back room at the ministry to find Angelina. She just had to come to lunch. It was a family thing, and he needed her to be there. She was the only person who really understood. She could keep him distracted enough that he wouldn't find himself looking for… She was just really good at reminding him that there were other people besides family that needed to eat lunch. So it sounded dumber then when he first thought of it that way. But, it was true none the less. Angelina was the best at a lot of things, yet George had a top three. The first was how she could finish his sentences like only one other person in this world ever could. The second was how she understood what he needed without him having to say anything. The third, and his favorite, was how she could make him forget everything but her. George reached into his pocket to check for the velvet box. It was still there. He was still surprised it was even if he had checked his pocket 187 times. Yes, he had counted. He checked again for the 188th time. She just had to say yes. If she didn't…well, he just couldn't lose her. Check number 189…

***

Ron watched George leave the back room first. George said he was just going to make sure all the reporters were gone. Ron knew he was just going to look for Angelina. He found it easier and easier to read his brother. Dad was talking to Harry, but the man was looking at Charlie and Percy. It seemed that dad was trying to convince Harry that lunch with the family was Harry's own idea rather than a direct parental order. Ron found it almost comical to watch. Ron could almost see the veins popping out of his father's neck at the frustration of the whole matter while donning a supportive expression. Ron hadn't seen that expression since…well it was when he assured his parents that they would love his new flat mate when they were upset that it wasn't Harry. The look of support was there as soon as it became known that it was Hermione. The veins were the result of George "letting it slip" about the flat only having one bedroom. It was that day that he lost being treated like a child. He missed it a little, but the benefits…Ron really enjoyed the benefits.

***

Percy spent his days with his family trying to make up for lost time. He always felt that the largest mistake he made was not coming back sooner. He had lost so much. Blood was thicker than water. It was scientific. Why hadn't he realized that this was what he wanted? He had lost so much time during the war. His father said that he needed to forgive himself first. Percy couldn't even fathom his family forgiving him, though they had. He struggled with the guilt more than he let the world see. He knew that he needed to let go of it in order to fully live, but how could he lose his crutch? The guilt kept him going. It gave him a reason to work. If he did this, it would compensate this person just a little bit. If he did that, it would make that person hurt just a little less. Harry called these feelings selfish. It was the last thing that Percy ever wanted to be. His father said he needed to be a role model to his younger brothers. He wanted to lose that crutch, but it seemed like so much more than that.

***

Charlie was the brother who lived in Romania. He was the brother who worked with dragons. He was the son that mum badgered about haircuts, piercings, and settling down. Well, he was at least on the top of the list for the last one. Charlie was the independent one. He was the bachelor. He was the Weasley that the world knew the least about. He was the one who missed out on more than he ever thought. He was living his dream. Wasn't he? He had watched the way his brothers had interacted with Harry Potter. When had this well known young man become a brother? It seemed like he was the only one who didn't understand the inside jokes. He remembered the first time he had gotten a letter that mentioned Harry Potter. He couldn't believe that someone the world knew was best friends with his youngest brother. Yet, now it seemed that Harry Potter was his youngest brother. (He was younger than Ron…someone had mentioned that somewhere.) When he first left home, he didn't think he'd miss that much. He had his dream of working with dragons. Now, all he wanted to do was go home with family for lunch. Was he losing his dream? Or, was he gaining a new one?

***

Arthur could handle this. Hermione said the boys needed help convincing Harry to come to lunch. What she should have said was that the boys had no idea what they were doing and could he please go rescue them. Arthur was just about to pull the "Molly will be so disappointed card," but Harry had heard that numerous times in the past five years. It hadn't worked then, so why would that line work now? One by one, the boys made excuses and left for home. Arthur was left with Ron as his only line for support. It seemed to Arthur that Ron was enjoying the seen a little too much. It wasn't hard for Arthur to imagine what scene was playing in his son's mind. It was common knowledge in the Weasley household that Ron and Hermione moving in together without so much as an engagement ring was the largest scandal in family history. When the story hit the Daily Prophet, it was all Arthur could do to talk Molly into going out into public in this lifetime. He tried to explain that this was a common acceptance even though it was a first for this family. Mr. Weasley, meet Mr. Couch. Arthur decided rather quickly to help Molly drop hints to his son.

Arthur knew how to handle his children. He could rein in Bill's independence and put Charlie's adventures on hold. He could hide whatever book Percy was reading at the time. He could "discover" the twins' secret stash of Zonko's products and "misplace" them. He could give Ron another round of hand me downs. He could remember to put his wand out of Ginny's reach so she couldn't sneak it to unlock the shed at night. But, this seventh son of his was being more of a problem than he ever imagined. Seventh sons were supposed to have all this wonderful stuff happen to them. The stories always had them go off and find a wonderful fortune, a wonderful girl, and live a wonderful happily ever after. Harry would be the first to admit that his life had held very few wonderful moments. Arthur just had to convince the boy that he could have so many wonderful moments starting with going to lunch. If Arthur didn't convince him…he didn't want to lose his seventh son. He just got him back.

***

Harry couldn't understand why they didn't even seem mad. The whole family…almost the whole family…was treating him like he never left. He didn't deserve special treatment. He didn't know how to deal with it. He listened to all the excuses they made. Molly was going to be disappointed. The amount of treacle tart was going to be more than he could ever eat. Grace was quite excited about the whole thing which was odd because she normally didn't like strangers. It wasn't the same without him. Ginny hadn't stuck her elbow in the butter dish in quite some time. He needed to brush up his quidditch skills before he lost them. Arthur had found something he believed was called a ter-moe-stat and wondered if Harry could explain how it could possibly control the temperature for a whole home. With all the excuses, Harry tried to tell himself that he agreed to go based simply on getting the never ending excuses to stop. His gut twisted at the real reason he was agreeing to the whole thing. He was going to lunch because he didn't want to lose the chance to learn why Grace was so excited. For some reason, he knew he couldn't lose that chance. Seeing Gi…her…was just going to be a bonus. At least, he hoped it would be.


	8. Chapter 8 Please, Not A Bad Day

Disclaimer: I hold no rights to anything below that is familiar.

A/N: I have nothing new to add besides my thanks for all reviews, alerts, and favorites. Y'all are the best!

Chapter 8

Please, Not A Bad Day

_It was dark. It was the kind of dark where you can't see anything beyond your nose. It was the kind that monsters liked. Slimy green monsters liked to crawl out of the dark looking for yummy little things to eat. She was little. Grand-mum said she was little like mummy. She wished she was big. She needed to be brave. Grand-dad said her daddy was brave. She wouldn't scream. Someone would come if she screamed. She went back to thinking about the slimy green monsters. They were nicer…_

_***_

Harry arrived at the burrow between Arthur and Ron. He would have paid anything to have prevented the site before his eyes. She was rolled into a tight ball crying by a cold stone marker that seemed to be offering no comfort. Pain shot straight to his heart. He couldn't pry his eyes away. He was so enthralled, he didn't notice his feet moving. He didn't notice how Arthur and Ron slipped inside with the rest of the family to spy out the kitchen window.

***

_The dark wasn't so bad. Cold was bad. The floor was cold. The wall she laid against was cold. She was cold._

_***_

Ginny couldn't breathe. The sobs were uncontrollable. She had officially fallen apart. It wasn't as bad as she had expected. There was soft green grass below her. It had the most wonderful smell. If she could give green a smell, it would be the smell of fresh grass. No matter how many times she tried to deny it, she loved the color green. She had been leaning with her back against Fred's marker. Her eyes were shut tight against the tears that still managed to spill out. She couldn't remember when she had moved her hands to the grass grasping clumps of the green stuff in her hands. She couldn't remember sliding to the ground. She couldn't remember curling into a ball. No one ever bothered her when she was here. She would hex anyone who tried. So, who was here now? At least, she would hex whoever it was now if she could breathe let alone get the words out. She let herself be unwound and pulled up off the ground to be cradled in strong arms.

***

_She was hungry. She hadn't really eaten anything for breakfast except for a little treacle tart. She had been so excited. Grand-mum was making lunch. She wanted lunch._

_***_

Harry took Ron's advice. Hermione had said he was right. He held her in his arms. He rocked her back and forth. He kissed her head. He whispered into her ear "I'm sorry, so sorry." He whispered and just simply held her. Tears fell from his eyes when her fists unclenched the grass and curled into his shirt. He had to make her understand. He was back. He wasn't going anywhere.

***

_Once upon a time before mummy was born, there was a little boy who was smaller than me. A very bad man went after his mummy and daddy. The little boy grew up not knowing how many people he would help._

_***_

Ginny couldn't believe how safe she felt. The sobs slowed but she kept her eyes firmly shut. She hadn't felt this safe since the night before he left. It couldn't possibly be…she felt herself begin to slowly rock back and forth in his arms. He was coming for lunch. All males were foremost concerned about their stomachs. If it was him…Ginny felt his lips press against her hair. It was so soft she wouldn't have even noticed it if her subconscious wouldn't have suddenly decided to wake her up. She had imagined this day so many times. At first, she thought their reunion was going to be strictly passion. This idea was quickly replaced with more of a scene of mutual comfort. As the years had past, the vision had changed. The only one she remembered recently was the one that involved him shaking his head and walking away. When she heard him whisper, she thought it was just her mind giving her what she wanted. When he wouldn't quit saying it, she decided to hold on. She wasn't going to let him go. She hoped he liked this shirt.

***

_The little boy grew and grew. He was ready to go to school. He was 11 years old. One day, a mean troll went after Auntie Hermione. The boy and Uncle Ron went and saved her together._

_***_

Arthur and Molly had made their way to the kitchen window by declaring that they in fact owned the window. There was a chorus of complaints as they edged toward the window. Arthur hugged Molly to his side as tears freely ran down his wife's face. The couple couldn't seem to get their fill of the sight of the younger pair. It was almost like a cleansing calm descended upon them. This was the moment they had been waiting for these five long years. Everything was going to fall into place. Arthur and Molly continued to soak in the beautiful scene before them as the crowd in the kitchen thinned. They were so enthralled in the moment that they didn't notice who the crowd in the kitchen had actually included.

***

_The next year at school, there was a very bad man who went after mummy. He had a giant pet snake. Uncle Ron played a giant chess game. He won. He always wins. Aunt Hermione won a puzzle so the boy could walk through a fire door. The bad man's pet snake was keeping mummy in that room. The boy killed the mean snake and saved mummy. He was very brave._

_***_

It wasn't fair. Just because the lot of them had moved out didn't mean that they couldn't take turns looking out the window. It wasn't like the view was changing much. Maybe that was why everyone backed off. Well, now that Ron thought about it everyone really wasn't everyone. It was just himself, Percy, and Charlie. The three of them might as well round up everyone. Charlie was going to check on Bill and Fleur. Percy was going after George and Angelina. He was going to see what the hold up at the ministry was that would be keeping Hermione and Grace. It wasn't like Hermione to be late. The girls were fine. He wasn't worried. At least, that's what he told himself.

***

_The next year the boy, Uncle Ron, and Auntie Hermione saved a very brave man by traveling through time. She really didn't believe this one…_

_***_

Charlie never did well with people who were ill. It seemed that whatever Victorie and Bill had was contagious because Fleur was currently spilling her guts in the kitchen sink. Bill was in the bathroom. Victorie was crying and spewing all over the floor. Charlie was beginning to think they should have made this one the short straw. Walking in on George and Angelina couldn't be worse than this.

***

_The next year the boy fought a dragon. He didn't fight it like Uncle Charlie. He fought it because he had to win three cups. She didn't think she would be that brave for a stupid set of cups. This part of the story really wasn't her favorite. It didn't have enough flying in it…_

_***_

Percy had drawn the short straw. Ron had cheated so he could go after Hermione. Percy really couldn't blame him. He loved George, but the flat above the shop was the last place he wanted to be right now. By the sounds he was hearing, he really didn't want to go up there. Charlie said it was his turn since he had gotten Ron and Hermione that morning. Percy argued that it didn't count because this was George and that was Ron. Ron started to take offence until Percy started to mention the reason why Ron moved out of the flat above the shop to his own place. Percy heard a mumbled "good point" before Percy stepped into the flu. It didn't really matter if he got stuck "finding" George this time. He had a feeling that lunch was going to be late. Percy sat on the stairs and waited for a lull in the noise. He hoped they would come down soon. Interrupting …that…again was not at the top of his priority list. Ron could back him up if lunch was cold when they got back.

***

_The next part of the story involved a pretty bird…she almost always fell asleep at this part. She was so sleepy. She didn't want to sleep._

_***_

Ron arrived back at the memorial to find it eerily deserted. He pulled out his wand without a second thought. He might not have accepted a direct offer to be an auror, but it never did leave his system. Dad had mentioned that Hermione had rushed Grace to the powder room. Even though Hermione wouldn't even have had to stand in line…she hated when people stepped aside for Miss Granger… she would have skipped the whole lot for their niece. Their niece…he liked the sound of that. Ron slipped into the women's room not knowing if he wanted to find them their or not.

***

_Her eyes kept drifting closed. She just needed to think about Grand-dad's story. The next part was about a prince? Or was it about a book? She just wanted to sleep. It was dark. She was cold._

_***_

Ron slowly pushed in each stall door. He was just over half way down the row when he reached a stall the read out of order. He paused before pushing lightly against the door. When it didn't open, he used his wand. He gasped at what he found inside.

Ron reached out to pull Hermione towards his chest. She was so still. It was all he could do to keep from dropping her back against the toilet when she made a rumbling sound in her throat. Ron realized there were tears running down his face. She was alive. She was going to be fine. Ron picked her up into his arms and apparated back to the burrow on the spot. She was going to be alright. She had to be. She just had to be.

***

_All she had to do was keep thinking about the story. Now, she was at the part where the boy, Uncle Ron, and Auntie Hermione went camping. Everyone fought against the bad man's people. The brave boy made the bad man go away and never come back. She was falling asleep. She was so tired but it was dark and cold and dark…she hated the dark._

_***_

Arthur heard the pop…and then he heard Ginny's screams. He saw his son running towards the house with an unconscious Hermione in his arms. He saw the tears on his son's face. He saw Harry holding back his daughter with what looked like the entire boy's strength. He saw Molly usher their son inside while shooting out instructions. He watched as Ginny went into hysterics. He watched Harry decide at that moment that he was going to hold his daughter up even though she was determined to hit the ground. He watched his wife bring Hermione back to a groggy state. He heard the most horrible truth in his life…

"She's gone…Grace is gone." Hermione went back under before Arthur heard Ginny scream "where?!"

***

_She wouldn't go to sleep. Not here. Not in the dark. She just had to think about Grand-dad's story… Once upon a time before mummy was born, there was a little boy who was smaller than me…_

_***_

Harry watched Hermione fall back against Ron on the couch. Ginny was screaming "where" over and over and over. It was all he could do to hold her up. It was then he saw Arthur staring at him.

"What do you mean by: please, not a bad day?" Arthur was giving Harry the most puzzled look. Harry knew what the man was thinking as he stared back into the Arthur's eyes. This day was probably automatically placed on Arthur's bad days' list. Harry was going to explain to anyone what he meant. Explaining would mean that he thought there was a chance that…no, he wasn't even going to think it. Harry Potter found missing persons. He was going to find Grace. He was going to need grace to find her.

***

_Her daddy was the bravest man ever. He was really smart. He would find her. Her daddy was going to find her…_


	9. Chapter 9 More Precious than Silver

Disclaimer: Anything that is written below that is recognizable as being owned by someone other than me belongs to the correct owner. This is simply for personal stress relief and reader enjoyment.

A/N: Miss me? For those who care to know, I was out of town for a school thing. Points for graduation are just a smidge higher on the priority list than posting right on time. Then, I had problems loading the document. Nothing works when you really want it to. Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Be sure to tell me. Enjoy as always! ~Lila

Chapter 9

More Precious than Silver

Ron held firmly to Hermione's hand. He wasn't going to leave her alone. He didn't care what the healers said. He continued to rub his thumb across the back of her hand. She was so still. He hadn't seen her so still since…well she wasn't stone still. He found comfort in holding her hand and watching her easy breathing. The healers had said that it was just a simple stunning spell. Magic wasn't the reason she was like this. She had hit her head off the toilet when she fell in the stall. Ron brought his eyes to her face. There would be no scar at her temple, but he would never be able to remove the memory of the wound from his mind.

Ron brought his attention back to Hermione's hand. It was her left hand. She had such small hands with delicate fingers and well polished nails. His large hands seemed to engulf her hand in his own. He would rub his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. He would intertwine their fingers. He would flip her palm over to trace the lines in her palm and up and down each finger. He never realized that she had a single freckle on her third finger. It was almost hidden between it and her middle finger but not quite between them. In fact, if she had a ring on, the tiny brown dot would be hidden.

Hermione deserved a ring. No, she deserved the most beautiful spectacular ring. She deserved the type of ring that he couldn't afford in five lifetimes let alone this one. He smiled at the memory of telling her this simple fact when she had flat out asked him what was taking so long. He would never forget what she told him.

"Ronald, I'm not marrying a ring. I'm marrying you. If I want a ring for anything, it would be an open statement to the world that I'm taken. Something plain and simple would be lovely. Ronald, trust me. I want to marry you for love. If I was going to marry someone for taste in jewelry…just pick out a damn ring."

She had mumbled and stumbled through the whole speech. The more she went on and on, the more and more he realized that he had nothing to worry about when it came to asking her. She continued to describe the exact ring he had in his pocket. So why hadn't he asked her then? He had always found her the most beautiful when she was in that moment. She spoke with such passion. Ron had simply forgotten to ask her and had ended up fallowing her lead…

He couldn't believe that was over a year ago. The ring was still in his pocket. He carried it constantly looking for the perfect time to ask her. It would be so beautiful on her. It was a shame that it wasn't on her finger now. Ron stopped rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb to pull the box out of his pocket and opened it. It was a plain silver ring. It had no diamond or other jewel attached to the center. It looked more like a wedding band than an engagement ring. The only thing that individualized the circular piece of silver was the inside inscription.

_For My Heart_

Ron stared at the ring in his palm. He played Hermione saying that all he needed to do was "pick out a damn ring" over and over again in his mind. Did he really need to ask her at all? He looked at her small hand lying on the bed. He only hesitated a moment before gently sliding the ring where it belonged. Ron went back to his routine of giving attention to that hand. This time, he added twirling the ring around her finger. He realized he was crying when she squeezed back after adding that simple gesture.

***

Harry hadn't wanted to leave Ginny, but the fact was he had to go to work. He had whispered that he was going to look for Grace as he gently transferred his heart over to her mother. Harry had taken her face in his hands trying to tell her with his eyes how much he loved her. He had told her he would be back as soon as he had news or it was his turn to try to sleep. He had hoped the news part was the reason he was back. He hadn't given up looking for the child. He needed sleep to fully function. If he kept up this pace, he would start to miss things that could hinder the search. A fresh set of aurors were continuing on while his group got some rest. He would return as soon as he could.

The house was quiet despite how bright it was lit in the darkness. Harry went through extinguishing the lights with his wand. It seemed that one by one the household had given up waiting for his return to sleep. He would have wakened them if there was news. After walking through the empty house, Harry jumped at the sight of someone on the couch.

Ginny had fallen asleep on the couch sitting with her back straight up. Her head was leaning so far back Harry caught himself rubbing the back of his own neck. He couldn't just leave her there. He told himself that the reason he was carrying her to her room was because the couch was old and lumpy. She would sleep better in her own bed. He came up with an excuse for each step he took and each time he lingered in the hallway. He loved holding her in his arms. He frowned as he placed her in her own bed.

"Don' go…don' wan' be 'lone…" Harry froze when he heard her sleep filled words. Would she be mad if she woke and found him there? Would she remember asking him to stay and him leaving her? He didn't want to leave her. He already hated himself for leaving as long as he did. His team had started tracing all the exits of every single person that had left the memorial. No leads had yet been found.

"P'ease…don' go… 'ove you…don' go…" She had reached a hand out to him when he had started to back away from her. He sighed as he gave in and crawled into the much too small twin bed with her. He pulled her tight to his chest with no intention of letting her go during the night. She could hate him in the morning. Right now, she didn't want him to leave. And frankly, he didn't want to either.

***

Sometime in the middle of the night, George woke from deep sleep to find he was wide awake. Normally when this occurred, a glass of water would do the trick. This time he was content to just stay in bed. He had the most precious girl in his arms. A girl, who happened to be wearing his ring, had her head on his chest. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair. She had the most beautiful hair. It was the first thing he had ever noticed about her.

He knew that he should stop. If he kept playing with her hair, she was going to wake up. He really should just let her sleep. George had to stifle a chuckle into his pillow. He abruptly stopped moving when Angelina shifted in his arms. He continued to run his fingers through her hair when she stopped. What was the worst thing that could possibly happen if he actually did manage to wake her up? She would be mad at him for maybe a whole whopping two seconds.

Sleep was such a waste of time anyway. He smiled as the thoughts of what he would much rather be doing than sleeping started to flow into his head. He started to compile a list of his favorites…Yes that was it. She could sleep after at least the first…seven were knocked off the list. Oh, alright then, she could sleep after the first ten. He was really not a big fan of sleep at the moment. He started with the first item on his list: kissing his love awake.

***

Angelina really didn't know what had gotten into George. Whatever it was, she hoped it stayed right where it was. It seemed he had a plan in his head that was doing absolute wonders…oh, she loved him so…

Angelina pushed George suddenly when a large crash sounded on the stairs. If she wasn't so afraid from the noise, she would have laughed at George losing his balance and falling off the bed. She gave him an apologetic look as he slowly stood up. She wasn't the only person who had fought in the war who jumped at loud sudden noises. She could tell that George was trying to cover how shaken he was by the sound for her benefit. She dropped the blankets she was clinging to her chest to grab at his hand when he reached for his wand on the bedside table. He motioned her to stay quiet and wait in the room as he slipped from out the door and towards the stairs.

***

Percy cursed as he rubbed the growing bump on his head. He had fallen asleep on the stairs while waiting for a lull in whatever was occurring in the apartment. Percy was avoiding all thoughts of what could have even been close to what he had heard. Call him a prude if you will, but this was his brother and a girl he knew from school. The last thing he wanted in his mind was a visual. Checking on George had always been the short straw for a reason. Not one of the brothers was surprised when Ron moved to his own place. The surprise was that it had taken him longer to move out than anyone had bet possible.

"What the hell, Percy! It's the middle of the night!" George yelled at his brother more for the interruption than anything else. "We'll come back home in the morning. That's what you were sent to tell us right, Percy?"

"George, I would much rather not have this conversation with you while you're…" George felt a pair of pants hit the back of his head the same time he heard Angelina's laugh. Percy's face turned even redder.

"Good night, Percy." George slung the pants over his shoulder and walked back up the stairs. It wasn't the first time his brothers had interrupted, and it most likely wouldn't be the last. Now, he did believe that they were at number four on his list…

***

Molly had never been able to sleep through the night since…well she didn't like to admit it. She had always had this routine of checking in on all her little ones before she could fully rest. The school year had once been the least of her problems. Now, she found herself walking the dark and quiet halls of her own home while the world slept around her.

Molly noticed that Ginny's door was slightly cracked on her way down for a cup of tea. Her heart broke at the scene laid before her. Her daughter clung to his shirt. Her face was buried into his shoulder. His arms were wrapped tightly around her. His lips were pressed against her hair. Molly covered a slight gasp with her hand as she slowly backed away from the door.

The scene was so innocent yet intimate. Molly suddenly felt like she was intruding on a safe haven. She simply stood in the hallway with her hand over her mouth. She wanted this. She wanted him back to comfort her daughter. She wanted them to be together. She wanted this to be an everyday thing. The young couple deserved to have this moment and so many others.

Molly slipped on down to the kitchen. She sat at the table and laid her head in her arms. She hadn't realized Arthur was present until she felt his hand on her shoulder. Molly lifted her tear stained face up to look into his eyes. She wanted to tell him it wasn't fair. She knew how it felt to lose a child. She knew how hard it was to keep going with Arthur. She loved him so it was true, but a loss of a child was so hard. It wasn't fair that she had to go through this. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't fair that her daughter had to go through this. She was so young. Oh, the poor boy was going to blame himself for this. She wanted to tell Arthur that the boy was going to need so much reassurance when he found out that his own child was missing. She wanted to tell Arthur that she suspected that Harry was figuring it out on his own. She wanted to tell him so much…

"I know, Molly. I know." Arthur sat beside his wife and pulled her to his chest. He didn't cry as he held her. He didn't think it was possible to cry anymore.


	10. Chapter 10 Good Morning Sunshine

Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, or form claim to own anything that is *gasp* not mine!

A/N: Can anyone say major snow storm equals internet problems? I love the snow, but this it getting a little bit ridiculous. Anyway, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! Y'all rock! As always, enjoy and tell me what you like. ~Lila

Chapter 10

Good Morning Sunshine

Arthur loved mornings. He loved the part where he would sit at his spot at the table. He loved the part where he could watch Molly cook breakfast out of the corner of his eye. He loved the part where he would read his paper. He loved the part where he would clear his throat and the children would pretend to settle down at the table. But, this morning was even better.

Molly was cooking as usual. Arthur always thought she was the most beautiful in the mornings. He was sitting in his chair at the table with his paper. The only major difference to the normal eye would be the absence of the children. However, this particular morning involved the presence of two wands on the table in front of Arthur that he had personally summoned directly after taking his seat.

Molly continued to cook, Arthur continued to read, and they both smiled. The shouting, the slamming, the shattering, the banging, the overall fighting…it was music to their ears.

***

Harry ducked as another text book was thrown at his head and slammed into the wall behind him. He knew she was going to be mad at him in the morning, but this was just a tiny bit scarier than he was anticipating. He was starting to wonder if the disappearance of their wands was more of a safety precaution for the house rather than he couldn't find his and dodge at the same time.

"Gin, you told me not to leave you last night." Harry didn't like the sound of his own voice. It was a begging sound with a hint of reasoning. He was aiming for the other way around.

"Do NOT call me that!" Ginny aimed another book at Harry's big head. She missed yet again and flinched when it ripped her favorite Harpies poster as the book fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry Ginny! Really! I just…I had problems getting through the block afterwards. I promise. I wanted to be here." Harry ducked as something that looked like an overly large scrap book flew at his head. When small pieces of colored paper and photos flew out after it hit the wall, Harry cringed. Ginny was going to kill him all over again after she calmed and saw the mess.

"Don't you dare _sorry_ me! It was FIVE years!" Ginny heaved a lamp that shattered against the wall. Harry needed to duck faster. Her aim was getting better. "It doesn't take FIVE YEARS to remember that YOU PROMISED!"

So she was a little madder than he thought she was going to be. He could deal with this. He was Harry Potter. He could calm her down. Now…how did he defuse that one fight with Ron that she nearly killed him over? He slowly walked towards her…just a tiny bit at a time. He had time to fix this…he hoped.

"Gin, I know you're mad at me! Hell, I'm mad at me! I'm the idiot that messed up the best thing that ever happened to me! I'm the one who put the block up Gin! I wanted to keep them from seeing you! I had to…if something ever happened to you…" Harry jumped back and ducked as a paper weight flew at his head.

"I told you not to call me that! You don't get to call me that! Just, damn it Harry! GET OUT!"

Oh no…he never was anything but mush when she cried…

"Please, Gin…I'll do anything. Let me try. Please? I'm sorry it took me so long to remember. It was like one moment I remembered everything…and then…I was back to remembering that something really important was missing…Gin? Baby, please!"

He was not seriously begging…Harry Potter never begged her anything. She had wanted to beg him to stay after that night, but she had let him go because he promised to come back.

"Baby? Baby! I've never been your _baby_! Oh…there was that one time…did you forget that part as well Potter? Are you sure baby? We don't have to do this now, _baby_. No PRESSURE or ANYTHING BABY!" Ginny started using quills like darts at her target.

"Whoa! Back up, Gin! Stop right there! I never, EVER _pressured_ you to do anything!" He was going to say more when Ginny interrupted him sharply.

"So coming into MY room in the middle of the night to say GOODBYE with the connotation that I might NEVER see you again constitutes as NO PRESSURE!!! Who the BLOODY HELL ARE YOU!"

She had stopped throwing things, and she was using Hermione words…don't say it Potter…just don't…

"I'm Harry Potter."

***

"Arthur, maybe one or both of us should go up there? She wouldn't kill him, Arthur. Would she?" Molly looked up at the ceiling as if she could see the couple above.

"You can patch him up when she's done with him Molly." Arthur turned another page in his paper without even looking up.

***

Ginny had crossed the room and was now physically attacking Harry's chest with her fists. Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as he let the assault continue.

"We needed you to come back…I needed you here…you weren't here when…you promised…you promised you would come back for me…I needed you to come back for me…I can't do this by myself…"

She was babbling and crying and hitting him. He couldn't fully understand what she was saying. He was such an ass.

"Gin, baby…I'm sorry I made you think that it was a mistake. I love you." Harry cupped her face in his hands so that he could look her in the eye. "The days I couldn't remember…it was like this empty space was haunting me. There was always this big hole that I couldn't figure out. It was you the whole time, don't you see? _I love you_. I have always loved you. I came back for you. I came as soon as I figured it out. I promise. Loving you was always the one thing in my life that made sense. It's who I am, Gin. Just, please…let me stay. I want to stay." Harry lowered his head to hers so that their foreheads were touching. He didn't realize that he was holding his breath until she whispered.

"You really don't think it was a mistake?"

Harry laughed quietly before he kissed her. He was going to do everything in his power to make her believe that loving her was never, ever a mistake.

***

"Arthur, it's too quiet! I don't care what you say, I'm going up there!" Molly slammed her wooden spoon on the counter before she turned to storm out of the kitchen. Arthur jumped from his seat from the table and grabbed Molly around the waist.

"Molly, let them be." He smiled into her hair. "The boy loves her. Let him prove it. Going upstairs now might ruin our chances of another grandchild from the two of them for good."

"Arthur!" Molly turned in his arms. She couldn't believe he said that…but then again… "He doesn't know yet does he?"

"No." Arthur gazed sadly into his wife's eyes. "She needs to know he loves just her first. The boy is going to be distraught when he finds out, but he'll be alright. Molly, he's going to find our Grace. Just give him this moment."

"You're right, Arthur. I just want her home." Molly buried her face into Arthur's shoulder.

"That boy is going to want her home faster than anyone else. She'll be home faster than you know it Molly." Arthur continued to whisper assurances to his wife. He couldn't help but think that she wasn't the only one in the kitchen who needed to hear them.

***

Hermione slowly drifted awake. It was such a strange feeling not remembering when you were last awake. She had only felt the sensation once before in her life, and she was the first person to admit she didn't like to think about it. The first thing she noticed was Ron sleeping in the strangest position in the chair next to her bed. The second thing she noticed was how he still managed to hold her hand. The third thing she noticed was…leave it to Ron to finally give her a ring. All it took was to be in a life or death situation to get him to tell her how he felt. She was going to have to break him of that. Hermione settled into her pillows to watch him sleep. He would be awake soon enough. She smiled down at her ring. At least something good came out of this whole situation. Before she knew it, she had drifted back to sleep.

***

"Good morning, sunshine." Ron smiled down at Hermione. "Sleep well? Anything hurt? I can get the nurse." Ron started to get up but forgot that he was still holding her hand.

"No. Stay here." Hermione held on to his hand with both of hers. She wasn't going to let him get away that easily. "I haven't given you my answer yet."

"Answer?" Ron gave her a confused look. It was common for him to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. He loved to watch her get all wound up. However, there was a time and a place for everything, and this was not the time.

"Yes." Hermione smiled at him. This was going to be fun.

"Yes what?" Ron ran his free hand through his hair. He hadn't slept well since he had found Hermione…no, he wouldn't think of her like that. She was fine. He placed his free hand against her cheek more to make sure she was real than to turn her face up at him.

"Yes, I'll marry you Ronald." Hermione started to giggle and abruptly stopped. It made her head hurt.

"Oh. Well, 'Mione, I never really asked." He was whispering. When had he lowered his head down to hers?

"So, you don't want to marry me?" Hermione tried her best at pouting. She never had tried it before. Even as a child, she was more of a ask first then demand type rather than the pouting then guilt trip/ tease bit.

"Of course I want to marry you." Ron lowered his head even further so he could whisper directly into her ear. "I just don't see how that could possibly be a question. You only get to answer questions, 'Mione." Ron placed a light kiss just below her ear.

"Ronald. I want to go home. Now." Hermione dropped the pouting act. She loved him. The last place she wanted to be right now was in a situation where you expected people to walk in on a regular basis.

"Honey, I want to take you home more than anything, but the healers want to observe you for 12 hours after you wake up. They just want to make sure everything is alright." Ron brushed her hair out of her eyes. He hoped that Hermione could read the disappointment in his eyes. He wanted to go home, too.

"Ronald, may I remind you that you have a little more say than the average wizard because, I don't know, you're Ronald Weasley! Go sign the right autographs and get me out of here!"

Ron laughed and then reluctantly pulled himself away from her. She did have a point. He was Ronald Weasley, war hero. He just didn't know if a few autographs were going to make it safer for his girl to go home.

"I'll get the healer Hermione as long as you promise to tell me to bring you back as soon as you think you do. And, if I think you need to come back, no matter how silly you may think I am, you come willingly. Deal?" Ron tried to keep his serious face in place long enough to hear her response. This was her health they were dealing with here.

"I promise Ron. Go get the healer." She smiled at him as she shooed him out of her room. He was always so overprotective. She would let him bring her back for every sneeze for the next three months if he would just take her home now. The exchange was so worth it. Her mother told her she had lost her head over this one. It was the first time she actually believed it was that extreme. She wasn't going to be Miss Hermione Granger much longer. She was going to be Mrs. Ronald Weasley. She sighed as she relaxed further into her pillows as she waited for Ron to return with the healer and her discharge papers.

***


	11. Chapter 11 1,000 Words

Disclaimer: The only idea that is my own is Grace and all plot situations that pertain to her. Everything else really belongs to someone else.

A/N: More snow, more snow, and more snow! I've never heard of a college that would take away spring break because of missed school days due to snow. Yes, it's that bad. Here's to keeping my fingers crossed. Until then, I'm playing catch up. Thanks to e-mail, I have more than enough school work. I just don't have the pleasure of lecture notes to explain the assignments. Oh well, I hope this chapter makes up for the extra wait. As always, enjoy and please review! ~Lila

Chapter 11

1,000 Words

Ginny had made her way downstairs to find something to eat. Arthur had left his wife and daughter sipping tea in the kitchen. He was being sent after Harry. Something was keeping the boy from coming downstairs. All thoughts of the reason being due to embarrassment were banished from Arthur's mind when he reached the doorway to his daughter's room.

The room was a disaster. Ginny had thrown just about everything she could lift in her fit of rage across the room. Arthur could see exactly where Harry had started cleaning and what areas hadn't even been touched. He wished the mess was the reason for what had startled him. He knew from listening to the fight it was going to be bad. He thought he was going to have to call for Molly if the boy had more serious injuries. He could handle minor bumps, cuts, and bruises. He would have thought a serious injury would have given him reason to pause. He almost wished this was the case.

The scene before him was so still, a photograph would have held more movement. A thin clean trail was obvious in the clutter. It was as plain as drawing a line to what was now the focal point of the room. Arthur just stared at Harry's back. He was sitting on the floor among the mess. His back crouched around something in his hands. His body held the solid curve as if it was protecting that one simple thing. At the boy's feet was a scrap book.

Arthur could tell that Harry had started picking up the loose photos before he could even touch the book. The book was where it had most likely been thrown. The book was open face down with pages bent and scrunched up against the harsh landing. The cover had "Grace" written across the front. Pieces of pink and purple paper as well as a few loose photos that hadn't made it to Harry's hands were still in a circle around the book. Arthur couldn't help but stare. It was just one of those moments that words failed.

This scrap book was a treasure. Ginny prided herself on keeping a photo diary of every little thing about Grace. Arthur had wondered if it was more so Ginny had something concrete to hold onto to give Harry when the time came. His daughter had been angrier then he first thought. For her to throw what Arthur would consider her most prized possession, Ginny must have completely let go of herself. Maybe she was just trying to force him into seeing what was right in front of him. But, Ginny was going to put the room back with magic after she ate. Maybe she hadn't remembered the book was lying there. Maybe it was all a part of her big plan on telling him. Arthur was so caught up in trying to understand what he saw that he almost missed what Harry said when he softly spoke.

***

Harry had put his heart and soul into making Ginny believe that he never once considered loving here a mistake. He could spend the rest of his life loving her, but her stomach had other plans. Harry had convinced her to go after some breakfast. His heart broke when he saw her face take in the mess from the fight. He had told her he was going to shower and then come down. He would gladly sacrifice a long shower for enough time to at least pick up some of the more sentimental pieces.

Harry had just picked a spot and started making a line towards the door. He could at least divide the mess up into piles and make it look less intimidating. Roughly half way across the room, he first noticed the slips of pink and purple paper. He picked up one to find a picture attached. He froze as the small figure in the photo gave him his favorite smile.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there just cradling the photograph. He soaked in every detail. The caption on the paper said three years. She was three years old in this picture. At first, he thought it was a completely new child he had never scene, but the face and smile was exactly right. The only things that were different from the older child he had a clear mental picture of were the hair and eye color. The girl from his memory had brown hair and brown eyes. This girl, she had black hair and green eyes.

She was clapping and smiling and playing with a cloth doll on the floor of the living room that was just downstairs. She was wearing a green dress with a matching green bow in her hair. It was the same green as her eyes. He kept going back to her eyes. Her dark black hair was distracting as well, but it was smooth and looked strangely well kept on such a small child. But her eyes, they were his mother's eyes.

It was strange how he thought that last part. Everyone had always told him he had his mother's eyes. Had it gotten to the point where he just thought of the color as hers? Was this not a trait that had been passed down for generations? Had it been passed on again? More importantly, had he missed it?

The first thing he noticed about her at the breakfast table, for he knew it was the same girl, was that she had Ginny's smile. It was why Arthur's story about Grace belonging to Charlie hadn't fit exactly right. It was why Molly had told him _Charlie_ was working hard yet said _her mother_ needed help taking care of Grace. The only thing he remembered the child saying about herself was that treacle tart was her favorite. Everything else had been a round of questions. Harry found himself wishing he had taken the time to answer every single one of them.

He hated himself in that moment. He never questioned why anyone hadn't said something. He should have gone back. He shouldn't have put Ginny in the situation of having to choose between waiting for him or seeking him out. She was trying to keep her hidden from the world. If word got out that Grace…

Someone knew. Someone knew about his Grace.

***

"How many people know?"

Arthur jumped when he heard the soft demand. The words might have been in the form of a question, but Harry's intent was clear. Arthur only heard that tone in a man's voice when a man meant business because his family was being threatened. He would no longer think of Harry Potter as a boy.

"Just the immediate family knows she exists at all." Arthur swallowed. "Ginny likes to keep her hidden as much as possible. I've only had her in public to a few ice cream outings in the village. She's been to Andromeda's house by apparition only incase something went wrong with the flu or a portkey. If anything, she's been isolated too much. She was having a hard time with the crowds at the memorial."

"She was having a hard time because of the crowds or because she saw someone who wasn't supposed to be there because she only had seen her in the muggle village?" Harry's voice was getting an accusing tone. His voice trembled with the control that was trying to hold it together. Arthur let Harry work it out. Harry was good at his job for a reason.

"I wouldn't know. Molly had her hand until I held her. I passed her straight to Hermione after your speech. The rest of the family stood around Molly, Grace, and me. We didn't leave her open. We didn't leave her unprotected." Arthur was stating the facts. He would have openly admitted anything that he had done that he thought would have put his granddaughter in trouble. "Wait, how do you know it was a woman?"

"A man couldn't walk into a women's restroom empty handed, cast a stunning spell, and walk out holding a child without anyone else noticing. Mothers were standing in line with fussy children. One that was giving her mother a bit of trouble on the way out of the restroom wouldn't have caused much of a stir." Harry stood up from his spot on the floor still staring at the picture. "But, I still don't think she would go with just anyone. You had to have taught her. You had to have prepared her." Harry gazed into Arthur's eyes. Arthur had never seen such clear desperation.

"Hermione taught her as soon as Grace started to mumble. Ginny thought it was to early at first, but Grace was so open to the boys when she barely knew them…Grace knew not to go with anyone she didn't know." Arthur could clearly remember Hermione drilling the small child. It wasn't the most comfortable situation for a while. The fear that Grace would go with a stranger had been tampered down as she had gotten older. Had it gotten too comfortable?

"Did Hermione tell her not to go with anyone she didn't know or not to go with anyone who wasn't family?" Harry's voice was filled with fear. Arthur wondered why he would be worried about how Hermione had phrased what she taught Grace. He tried to figure out the answer to why but none came to him.

"I think she told her not to go with anyone she didn't know." Arthur nodded his head. He was positive that was how Hermione had said it.

"Did you just take her to the ice cream parlor?" Harry was grabbing his shoes and coat and heading out of the room and down the stairs before Arthur could even answer.

"Yes. Ginny would only let me take her there and straight back." Ginny had insisted on that fact. Arthur remembered on one occasion where Grace had dropped her ice cream and he had gotten her a new one. Arthur hadn't thought about the time difference by adding those few minutes. Ginny had came for Grace and taken her home exclaiming the whole way back that he had kept her out way longer than he had promised. Arthur had forgotten about the charms for Grace's hair and eyes. If Ginny hadn't have come, the charms would have worn off before the return home.

"She would be able to recognize the regular people from the shop?" Harry sounded worried. Arthur didn't like it.

"I'll grab my coat." He beat Harry out the door and led him down to the village to the ice cream parlor.

***

Harry sat at a table eating an ice cream just watching. He didn't know what he was looking for. He didn't expect it to be easy. He thought he would just know when he saw it. He glanced at the employee of the month photos. He stared at the teenagers dishing out treats for a mother and two children. He watched and listened for someone to take notice of Arthur minus his granddaughter.

"Did you ever bring her with…"Harry paused. If there was a chance that Grace wasn't the only target, he needed to set up security for Teddy and Victorie. He was going to for precautionary measures, but he wanted to know of any possible real threat.

"No. We thought it would be safer for them not to be associated with each other in public." Arthur spoke quietly. He was nervous about listening ears and wandering eyes.

"Good." Harry was happy that the connection was going to be harder to make. The connection would still be easy for someone who fallowed wizarding news in detail, but someone who was more connected to the muggle world might be slower. Harry still couldn't help shake the feeling that this was a woman who knew him better than anyone. How else would she have known to look for a child that wasn't even a speculation to society?

Harry felt that he was getting closer. He knew that the abductor was a woman. He just had a feeling he was missing something important. He didn't have time to miss it. His Grace was missing.

***

_If you think you know who it is, feel free to guess in a review. I haven't given away anything that wasn't already in previous chapters…or have I?_


	12. Chapter 12 Obvious

Disclaimer: I own nothing. (Yea, like you would believe me if I said I did.)

A/N: Nothing to say but sorry for the long wait. Life got away from me. Just a few more weeks till summer break and updates will be more regular. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. Read, review, and enjoy! ~Lila

Chapter 12

Obvious

"…_I know you heard a lot of talk about various disappointments this evening, and I know you've heard a lot of talk about it in the past, but I want to make this very clear: you, young lady, your person and your existence, have never ever been, not even for a second, included in that list. Do you understand me?" ~Kelly Bishop as Emily in Gilmore Girls_

Ron watched Harry try to pull the hair out of his head while Hermione aimed her wand at what used to be a vase. At least, Ron thought that was what it was. He was surprised when Hermione was able to save it after being smashed against the far wall of Harry's office. The thing had shattered into a million pieces. It seemed his best mate was at the same breaking point.

"We're going to find her, mate. We're just missing the obvious." Ron didn't even try to approach him. He had years of experience with keeping George sane. Harry had the same look in his eyes as George on the worst days. Ron tried to keep the rising panic down. Panic wouldn't find Grace.

"I didn't see anything that stood out at that damn ice cream parlor. The whole town didn't even have a single apparition point. Not a single port key. The closest flu that's connected to the network is at the burrow. With the security measures still intact there, the possibility of the woman using it isn't even plausible." Harry's hands were shaking.

Harry started to pace in his office. When he had first been shown the room, his first thought was that it was too much. It was too big. It was too nice. It was too empty. He had tried to request a smaller office just to be laughed at. He was Harry Potter. He deserved the best. He didn't feel like he deserved the best. However, the room now just seemed so small. He felt trapped as if the walls were closing in on him. He was running out of time. He needed more time.

"Harry, I'm going to take Hermione back home to lie down. I'll get George to come in and sit with you." Ron spoke slowly and calmly to Harry. He hated to leave him, but Hermione had only been released from St. Mungo's with strict instructions to make sure she didn't over do anything.

"I'm fine Ronald. Stay with Harry." Hermione tried to look stern but she was getting tired. She never had been the best patient. It was a lost argument. As soon as Ron tugged on her arm slightly, she wobbled. He had her scooped up in his arms before she could argue further. Maybe she would let him baby her just a bit. She was too tired to fight him anyway.

***

"George, can you Harry-sit while I take Hermione back? I don't like leaving him alone like this." Ron shifted Hermione slightly in his arms more for her comfort than his. He held her like she belonged there.

George nodded and walked towards Harry's office. He didn't have anything to say. He stood in the doorway a moment to take in the scene. Harry was still pacing back and forth with his hands in his hair. The abandoned desk and office chair were large. George's first thought was that the size of the furniture was directed to take up space in the overly large office. Big and expensive was not Harry's style.

George walked slowly toward Harry and stood facing the wall that Harry was pacing beside. This wall was the focal point of the whole room. George had to keep from laughing at the thought that the wall resembled a shrine. It was covered in framed photos, newspaper articles, drawings from kids, letters of thanks, medals, and what George thought was a…no it wouldn't be…Harry would have his chocolate frog card collection in his office.

"Nice office." George stated the obvious as Harry continued to pace. "I didn't know you were this great of a decorator."

"I'm not. Gretchen did all of it." Harry continued to pace. "I'm trying to think George."

"And whom may I ask is Gretchen?" George had never even heard of this girl. He wasn't worried. The way Harry said her name was like she didn't matter. Of course, Harry was focused on quite a large top priority at the moment.

"She's my secretary. Kingsley hired her. He said I needed help organizing everything." Harry continued to pace the length of the room. George looked down and noticed the worn carpet. He let Harry pace.

"So she put all this stuff up? A little obsessive don't you think?" George laughed very lightly. It wasn't exactly the time or place for jokes.

"I would assume so. I don't read much of the stuff besides the letters." Harry stopped with a questioning look on his face. "What are you trying to get at, George?"

"Well, it's just that this stuff goes way back. She's got everything from your birth announcement clear up to the article about how you were selected to speak at the memorial. It's a little creepy." George looked over to see that Harry had stopped pacing. "You alright, Harry?"

Harry ran out to Gretchen's desk in the front room. She was usually seated at her desk before he even arrived to work. Her chair was empty, but there was a post-it stuck to an envelope smack in the middle of her clean desk. He remembered asking her about them before. She said it was a muggle habit she refused to get rid of. She had said something about her mother using them to remember things.

_Mr. Potter_

_Please consider this an apology._

"What is it?" George stared at a very pale Harry Potter. It was the first time that George had ever seen Harry Potter as someone to be feared.

"It's a resignation letter." Harry crumpled the paper in his very calm hands.

***

Harry quadrupled checked the address he had written on the bit of parchment in his hand. It looked like a normal house. There were normal flowers in the front. There was a normal clothes line with a forgotten blanket draped across. The grass was cut like a normal lawn. It looked like a normal happy home.

"Just wait until they finish checking for wards Harry. We've got it covered front and back with our own wards being placed to keep her here. The bitch isn't going to get away. Harry? Harry are you listening to me?" Ron was getting worried. He was here to keep Harry from charging in and doing something stupid. He sighed and went after Harry as he stormed towards the house. Hermione was going to kill him.

***

Harry blocked out the sounds of the fighting in the house as he tore the place apart looking.

"_I love him! I know everything about him! SHE doesn't love him like I do."_

Harry would let his people do what they do best. He would kill the woman if he looked at her.

"_I know how he likes his coffee in the morning. I keep everything nice and neat for Mr. Potter. He loves how I take such good care of his office. SHE doesn't take care of him."_

She wasn't in the upstairs of the house. She wasn't on the main floor. That left the basement. Where was the damn door to the basement?

"_He was mine. __**All**__ mine. A little memory charm here and a little slip of potion in his coffee there. He's all mine. No one's but mine."_

"Take her to St. Mungo's. She's insane. See if they can get any information out of her." Harry wouldn't panic. He was going to find her. It was with that thought that he heard one of his men yell "down here!"

"_SHE didn't deserve to have his little girl. SHE tried to keep her hidden from him. __**I **__kept her nice and safe away from cameras. No one's going to hurt my baby. She's my pretty baby. My baby…"_

***

The first thing Harry noticed was that her hair was back to its original color. The second thing he noticed was how black hair didn't make her look anything less like Ginny did when he had found her in the chamber.

"Grace? Baby, can you hear me? Please, Gracie." Harry gently used his wand and unchained the little girl. She had been left in the dark against the cold wall and even colder floor. The woman might be completely mental, but he was having a hard time fighting back dark thoughts. Harry leaned his ear down to her mouth to listen as he felt for a pulse.

"Come on sweetheart. Open your eyes for me. Gracie!" Harry found the small life line in her much too thin wrist. He clung to hope as he pulled the girl in his arms and pulled out an emergency port key to St. Mungo's the wards be damned.

***

The line for admissions to St. Mungo's was long as usual. Some were calmly waiting in line though they were in the minority. Mother's held tight to children who were screaming that they didn't want to take a potion. Tiny old women scolded their husbands for accidently charming some random body part accidently. Father's rehearsed their sons on what exactly they were and were not to say to their mothers when they got home. It was quite the normal day. Everyone wanted to be next. The line was moving much too slowly. Nothing too out of the ordinary was in the reception room. No one there would soon forget the devastating entrance.

***

"Somebody help me!" Harry Potter screamed as soon as his feet hit the floor. "She needs help! Please! Somebody help me!"

The line compressed out of line and back away from the war hero as healers came running. The crowd silently watched the scene.

"Let me have her Harry. It's ok. I can't help her until you let me have her."

"Dean, she's mine. She's my little girl. She's my Gracie."

"I know Harry. Let me have her."

"I love her."

"I know."

"Ginny's going to kill me."

"She will if you don't give her to me."

Harry reluctantly handed the child over to the healer that he called by name. The crowd would never learn the history between the two men, but the trust and desperation in Harry Potter's eyes were clear.

"I didn't know."

"She's going to be fine Harry. Just give me a minute."

The crowd watched as the healer laid the little girl on the floor and scanned his wand over her.

"I have to tell her I'm sorry. I have to let her know it wasn't her fault."

"Come on sweetie. Breathe for me."

"I left her. I left her pregnant! Who does that? She's just a baby, Dean. She must think I hate her."

"That's my girl. Linda, get me some…"

The crowd watched as the tiny thing of a girl started to cough and stir while the healer that had taken charge started issuing orders. The sound of a pin hitting the stone floor could have been heard when a small voice mumbled.

"…knew…find me…daddy…"

***

Ginny watched from the doorway of her daughter's room at St. Mungo's as silent tears flooded down her face. Harry was kneeling on the floor by the bed with his hands enfolding one small one. He was whispering softly into her ear.

"It's alright, Ginny. Go sit with them" Molly nudged her daughter slightly towards the empty chair beside Harry. Ginny slowly entered the room, she sat, she watched, and she listened. She listened to the most beautiful sound in the world.

"I love your mother and you so much, Gracie. I love you."

Ginny took in a ragged breath as she gently touched her daughter's I.D. band.

"This needs changed. Her name has never been Weasley. She's a Potter." Ginny just stared at the tiny band that encircled the much too small wrist. "I never meant to hide her from you. I just…I didn't want you to…to feel obligated. But I never…I never wanted her to think…to think that…_umph…_"

Harry kissed her from right where he was on the floor.

"I love you Gin. Don't cry, love. I'm here… _I'm here_."

***


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